


the surrender of himself

by waywardvagabond



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Gen, Non-Linear Narrative, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Spoilers, and narrative heavy at that, and pronoun heavy too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:27:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22104070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardvagabond/pseuds/waywardvagabond
Summary: His teeth begin to hurt from the tension strung in his jaw. Blood drips down his chin. Ben hardly notices, only painfully and hyper aware of one thing- there is a single heartbeat roaring in his ears, and it is, however, unfortunately, his own.(The epilogue to the Rise of Skywalker with a critical difference.)
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 7
Kudos: 29





	the surrender of himself

**Author's Note:**

> major, MAJOR, rise of skywalker spoilers. like, last ten minutes of the movie spoilers. proceed with caution.

Every step was punctuated agony. Each stumble, each footfall, each bump from the uneven stone floor echoed through every one of Ben’s fractured bones.

Still, he crawled- he made his way toward the still frame of Rey’s body, choosing to ignore each jeer of his conscience taunting that it’s too late, you were too late and you were useless to save her.

A shuddering breath strains against his cracked ribs. His knees protest as they slam against the cold stone. Her body is warm, too warm, under his coarse palms. A distant part of Ben’s mind numbly registers how light she is, how small she is, as he pulls her across his lap, begging, praying to whoever’s listening, for any kind of response, intake of breath, divine intervention, anything, but-

But nothing.

Ben steels himself. He wagers another inhale, and reaches out, physically and spiritually, places a hand on her abdomen. He focuses- he squeezes his eyes shut, clenches his jaw- he wills himself to do to her what she did to him that day on Kef Bir. He demands his life force to obey him, to revive her, no matter the personal toll.

His teeth begin to hurt from the tension strung in his jaw. Blood drips down his chin. Ben hardly notices, only painfully and hyper aware of one thing- there is a single heartbeat roaring in his ears, and it is, however unfortunately, his own.

Ben doesn’t know how long he stays there, holding her body with his hand on her stomach and lips in her hair, unsure of where to go, or what to do.

-

He goes to Jakku. He sells the Fighter he scavenged to the junk boss there, in exchange for a speeder. Ben haggles himself a new set of clothes in varying shades of beige.

He sets off into the desert to get a sunburn and a thousand freckles, and for a fleeting moment- he swears he feels the murky force connection that made her appear in the halls of the Star Destroyer, the streets of that Kijimi, and his own quarters. Ren grits his teeth and reminds himself that she would have no reason to be here, not anymore.

Kylo Ren spends days in the wrecked ships of glorious days gone by, displacing waves of sand beneath the beat speeder, unconsciously burying the past- and feeding into his own frustration.

He’s not sure what he’s looking for, or if it was even there when he landed on this wretched desert planet. He hates sand, the way it has no memory. He doesn’t even know why he came to Jakku.

-

Ben stares at his mother’s saber in his hand for a long time. Intending to move it back to Rey’s body, he found himself entranced by the foreign familiarity.

He considers taking it with him, wherever he decides to fuck off to- he even ignites it, the accompanying ripple of energy intimate to him- but the balance is wrong. It doesn’t weigh his hand like he prefers. He puts it down.

Ren finds the other saber to be an extension of his arm. The weight seems to be made exactly for him, the size of the hilt wonderfully snug in his palm. It terrifies him. The echoes of Anakin Skywalker bleed into the ease of the weapon, and Ben finds himself wondering how Rey or his uncle was ever comfortable with using it in the name of the light.

Ultimately, he leaves both lightsabers on either side of Rey’s body.

-

After Jakku, Ben finds he can’t stay in one place very long. The tan scraps that camouflaged him on a desert planet now make him stand out in a crowd, makes his skin crawl even as he keeps his eyes to the ground. He finds himself a new set of clothes in a deep cerulean blue, he keeps his eyes low, he sticks to the edges of the streets, but even so-

The girl’s face twists with fear and recognition, reminding Ren that he is the monster in the child’s closet, that he is every parent’s worst nightmare, the object of every bedtime story intending to scare their children into submission.

He doesn’t even know who she is or how he affected her, and he doesn’t want to consult the extensive list of options.

Ben cuts his hair in the chipped mirror of the motel refresher that night, vaguely recalling the idea that cutting hair is a symbol of change in character.

He pauses, and looks himself over. Short hair. Blue Clothes. The scar that Rey gave him across his face that day in the snow a million years ago has now faded entirely.

As he glances over the roughly chopped strands of hair in the sink, Ben considers how much his character has changed, and he thinks that idea might just be bullshit.

-

Hurried footsteps reverberate into the chamber’s vaulted ceiling, giving Ben just enough time to hide behind a crumbled pillar before the Resistance pilot that’s been a pain in his ass for the past year bursts on the scene, followed by the lauded FN-2187, and two female members of the Resistance he doesn’t recognize.

He’s always been quick, that pilot. He skids to a stop about fifty feet from Rey’s body. It’s like all of him slammed on the breaks- he freezes, his face pales, cycles through thirty different expressions as he processes what’s in front of him. Then he turns on his heel and slams into FN-2187, curling an arm around his middle and repeating something to the group, “This isn’t- we were-“

FN-2187 cuts him off with a howl, pain and fury rolling off of him in waves. He roars her name, calls to her. He near collapses against the pilot, his knees failing him, taking in the sight of the girl who ignited the spark- now dim under the scarce light of the smoke-blurred stars.

Ben finds himself feeling intrusive, like he shouldn’t even be witnessing the scene, when the defector stormtrooper gingerly picks her up with the utmost reverence, care, grief- and carries her off.

-

He considered turning himself into what’s left of the Resistance, even just for symbolism or whatever— he goes so far as to research what’s left of the hierarchy, but… fear got the better of him.

Seven months after the war ends, Ben settles on a city planet somewhere in the Inner Rim, because the urban sprawl of a city provides the comfort of a crowd, but that doesn’t stop Ben’s skin from crawling every time eye contact lingers a little bit too long.

He finds himself at a bar one night, and not for the first time, but he’s confident that he generally exudes an air of “don’t talk to me”, so it’s quite a surprise when a red headed girl with a metal arm and three facial piercings slides up next to him.

“You’ve come to this shithole four times this week,” she starts, and Ben notes she has four fangs on the top set of teeth and two on the bottom, “but you’ve done nothing but brood.”

“Sorry, I was under the impression that brooding wasn’t against the rules,” Ben responds with a smirk in the corner of his mouth. He forces himself to relax, tells himself that this is okay.

“Well, when you make it a habit, people are gonna get curious about the mysterious guy in the corner. I’m Katya.” The girl nudges her elbow against Ben’s.

“Ben,” he allows, letting his deep baritone rise just enough to be heard.  
“You got a last name, Ben?”

He can’t help it- he locks up, his mouth opens and closes- he can’t bring himself to say it.

In that moment of hesitation, he watches as the pair he now knows as General Poe Dameron and Finn walk in the door, each of their eyes scanning the room in a soldier’s habit despite laughing at an unheard joke together.

Finn’s eyes lock onto Kylo Ren’s, and the smile freezes on his face.

Ben recognizes he has distinct features. His hair is short now, and the tunic he wears tonight is a warm brown, but he has his mother’s eyes, which he tears away from Finn’s and to Katya’s. 

“Nice to meet you Katya,” he says quietly, smile still stuck in the corner of his mouth, “but I’ll have to catch up with you next time.” With that, he rises, and takes his leave, ignoring any gaze that might be attached to his broad shoulders.

Ben ducks down the next alley, and turns around, unflinching, to the blue beam of light that charges just inches from his throat.

Nothing is said for what feels like minutes. Finn’s eyes, bisected by the horizontal reflection of the lightsaber in the dark of the alley, are filled with pain, and then fury, and then- sorrow.

Kylo Ren recognizes how easy it would be to throw him against the opposite wall of the alley, to choke him out and finish him off with his own saber, but he takes a breath, and lets Finn form his words, pinned against the wall and imperceptible by expression.

“She- she killed you,” Finn finally breathes. “She killed you, and then she killed Palpatine.”

It dawns on Ben that the statements aren’t as accusatory, and more that… that Finn is making sense of what he thinks he knows. After a moment, he clears his throat and speaks softly. “She killed Kylo Ren on the ruins of the Death Star. I watched her take on Palpatine on her own. A lot happened.”

Finn doesn’t even seem to hear him. “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you right now. You’re wanted in every system in the galaxy. You’ve done unspeakable things that can never be forgiven or forgotten. What makes you think a haircut and a change of scenery will free you of that?”

Ben quiets. He traces the knit of Finn’s brow with his eyes- lets him come to his own conclusions, but General Dameron’s voice from the mouth of the alley interrupts him: “Finn.”

Both men shift their gazes to Poe, arms crossed, leaning casually against the same wall that Ben is currently being threatened against. Finn and Poe seem to have a conversation through eye contact alone, before Finn extinguishes the saber, straightens his shoulders, and takes a step back.

Removing a set of handcuffs from his belt, Finn puts on a solemn face, and announces formally, practiced, “Kylo Ren, you are under arrest by the Resistance and the Neo Republic for crimes against the galaxy, genocide, and numerous other offenses to be punished by the official council of war crimes. Attempting to evade arrest will result in your immediate termination.”

Swallowing, and bringing his eyes from the ground and up to Finn’s, he murmurs, “It’s Ben.” He holds his wrists out to be cuffed, to be arrested, imprisoned, executed. “My name is Ben Solo.”

**Author's Note:**

> i just couldn't stop thinking about what would happen if rey stayed dead at the end of the movie and my brain shat this thing out onto a google doc on my phone at about four in the morning. let me know what you think! comments are my lifeblood and even if you hate it i'm in need of a good humbling so go for it


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